


seen the world, lit it up

by aceofdiamonds



Series: quidditch after the war au [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Quidditch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-18
Updated: 2014-10-18
Packaged: 2018-02-21 14:16:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2471213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aceofdiamonds/pseuds/aceofdiamonds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It takes a beat and then another one for what's being said to wash over Harry. The World Cup. He's been to one, the last one Britain participated in before the war pushed the sport to the back of everyone’s minds, and the players there had been so skilled it had been incredible to watch, the possibility that he could be in the same situation never having crossed his mind even after helping the Tornados win the league three times. </p><p>harry gets recruited for the english national team</p>
            </blockquote>





	seen the world, lit it up

**Author's Note:**

> this was somewhat topical when i started it way back in july when the quidditch world cup and the football world cup were both going on. it's now three months later and i finally got around to finishing it. i plan to add more. eventually. i can't let to go of professional quidditch player harry and his professional quidditch player partner ginny (even if only one half of that is canon) and i couldn't resist putting them there on the national team. this is more of the build-up rather than the actual event but logistically, this is the 2002 cup. i read somewhere that british teams probably didn't take part in 1998 due to the recent ending of the war so i'm taking that and running with it. title comes from young and beautiful by lana del rey and i want to use it for all of harry and ginny's endeavours

 

 

Harry loves long lies. With his career, large extended family (that’s not official yet, but soon), and the nightmares and visions that have certainly decreased over the last three years but still make an appearance every so often, shocking him out of sleep for a few days, he feels the need to cling to luxuries such as sleeping in that little bit longer, especially on the rare days off he and Ginny share.

An owl pecks at his window, continuing until he groans and stumbles to his feet, narrowly avoiding hitting his foot on the edge of the bed. The owl hoots indignantly at the wait then sticks out a leg, eager for the letter to be taken so he can be on his way. Harry snatches the roll of parchment and glares back at the owl before it hoots once more, loudly, and flies away. 

Harry misses long lies. 

"Can you shut that bloody bird up?" 

He slides back into bed, curling his toes in the warmth, and trying not to jostle the body beside him. "It's gone, Gin." 

"Who the fuck is so desperate to contact you at this time?" Ginny's not a morning person either, see. She burrows her head further into her pillow, not waiting for an answer.

Harry tosses the letter to the side, unopened, and joins her, his body wrapping around hers, the way it was before all the bloody hooting started up. 

 

 

.

 

 

He forgets about the letter until later when he's sitting in the kitchen with Ginny eating breakfast and telling her all the wrong answers for the crossword and she brings it up after he suggests _accio_ for a simple healing spell. 

"So what did the letter say?"

"What letter?" 

She's good at raising her eyebrows, both at once or one at a time. He's getting the left one at the moment. "The one that ruined the first day off we've both had in ages?"

"Well, I wouldn't say it ruined it completely, would you?" They'd stayed in bed for a while after that, both asleep and then definitely not. "I forgot about it."

"Well go and open it then."

Harry waves his wand lazily, chewing another piece of toast as he grabs the letter out of the air. "Bollocks."

"What?"

"Birch told me to come in and see him as soon as possible. He's put... six exclamation marks." 

Ginny laughs, her foot moves from its resting place in Harry's lap to fall on the floor with a thud. She pats the paper until her wand falls out and then does a complicated little flick that has all the dishes stacked in the sink. Harry's flat has been a lot tidier since Ginny moved in. "You better get going. Bet you regret all that time spent in bed this morning now."

"Never." Harry bends down, his t-shirt caught over his arms, and kisses Ginny, his tongue licking into her mouth fast and making her squeal, her hand tight on his arm. "We're still going to your parents later?" 

"At three. Don't be late." 

"I'll meet you here at two," Harry grins, fumbling for his shoes and then he's out the door and running to the end of the hall, spinning on the spot. 

  


.

  


"Six exclamation marks is usually enough of an indication that what I want to say is _important_ ," Birch starts with when Harry skids through the door of the Captain's office five minutes later. 

Henderson and Grace are sitting in two of the three seats across the desk from their Captain; Harry drops into the last one. "Sorry, got caught up at home." 

"Yeah. That's what they're calling it these days," Henderson says with a smirk, dodging the kick Harry tries to send him. "How many times did you get _caught up_?" 

"What age are you, Neil? Honestly, what age?" 

Harry had forgotten that Henderson actually has a first name, something he's guessing Grace -- _Sam_ Grace -- had too judging by the way she looks up from her book. She's been on the team longer, it looks worse for her.

"Twenty three, why?" 

"You want to act your age then?"

Henderson shrugs, at ease. "Alright." 

Birch rolls his eyes and then he smiles, looking at the three of them with a fierce pride that makes Harry want to sit up straighter and fix the collar of his t-shirt even though he has no idea what he's doing here. 

"You three, my beautiful players, are going to the World Cup."

It takes a beat and then another one for what's being said to wash over Harry. The World Cup. He's been to one, the last one Britain participated in before the war pushed the sport to the back of everyone’s minds, and the players there had been so skilled it had been incredible to watch, the possibility that he could be in the same situation never having crossed his mind even after helping the Tornados win the league three times. 

Grace is standing up, her book held loosely at her side. "You're serious?"

"I never joke about Quidditch and I never joke about England," Birch says solemnly then waves his wand, pamphlets appearing in front of them. 

Harry turns to look at Henderson to see how he's taking this in favour of picking one up. 

"My mum is going to be so pleased," is the first thing out of his mouth and that's enough for the incredulous laughter to burst from Harry, the past few minutes still not entirely sinking in. _The World Cup_. "What?" Henderson says now, his mouth bent into a smile. "She's been taking me to matches since I was four. She was on the reserve team for --"

"The Kestrels," Birch interrupts. "We know." Henderson doesn't reply, instead picking up the leaflet that Grace is engrossed in. "You might want to take a look at the team list, Potter," Birch adds. "I think you'll recognise a name or two." 

Confused, Harry reaches for the parchment but before he can open it and see what other players he'll be on a team with Henderson beats him to it. "You gonna share a tent with your girlfriend, Potter? I bet you'll have some _catching up to do_ , right? I haven't been following the Harpies much, how is she as a Chaser?"

"What?" because he's already been told so much this morning and now he's flipping through to the red and white decorated page halfway through the book and there it is _: Harry Potter, Seeker for the National Team_ and a few lines above -- _Ginny Weasley, Chaser_. "Ginny's been picked too? But she didn't get an owl..." 

"Jones likes the suspense, she's probably waiting until later. Unlike me who wanted to tell you straightaway, something not all of you picked up on." Harry gets another look. This has been the _one and only time_ he's been late in at _least_ a year. "The League is coming to an end so you'll start up practice with the National team in a couple of weeks. Your qualifying game should be around the start of June."

Grace voices Harry's concerns. "June? That's six weeks away."

"You three are bloody good Quidditch players." Birch says fiercely, "Six weeks of intensive training with the best in the country is more than enough time to get you ready to bring that Cup back to England. Do you know how I know that? Because you're already there."

Birch's pep-talks have proved successful in the past so Harry nods, energy already running through his veins. He has to get home, tell Ginny, see if she knows yet that they're going to be in this together, part of their country's team in the biggest sporting event of their world.

“I was on the reserve team for ‘94. It’s an incredible feeling to represent your country that way, some might say the most important way.” He glances at Harry, then, blushes slightly as though he slighted Harry’s honour by overriding the war with Quidditch, and hurriedly moves on. “Granted, we got slaughtered by Transylvania but even being there, soaking up the atmosphere...” He trails off here, looking close to tears.

"I'm going to Floo my mum and tell her," Henderson says after a moment of silence, sticking his middle finger up at Harry who winks at him, a laugh bubbling out of him. “Fuck off, Potter. I’m gonna embarrass you in training in front of your girlfriend,” but he claps a hand to Harry’s shoulder on his way out, no harm meant -- also not knowing that Harry has embarrassed himself in front of Ginny plenty of times with no one's help, although McLaggen played a part when he knocked him out with a Beater's bat that time and Ginny had visited him in the hospital wing while he had been unconscious. Merlin.

Once the meeting has broken up, Grace - the most talkative Harry has ever seen her - saying something about phoning her fiancé and Birch watching them leave like a proud parent, Harry hovers outside the building for a few minutes, his head tipped back against the wall as he struggles to process this.

It feels like confirmation that he made the right choice when he was left with so many options after the war. With the Aurors he wouldn’t get this feeling of joy that fills him every time he gets on his broom and now he’s getting to play with _Ginny_ again, just like they had at school. No, only Quidditch that can give him this.

  


.

  


There's a scrap of parchment on the kitchen table when Harry gets home telling him Ginny's been called into the office for a meeting so she'll just meet him at The Burrow. He pushes aside the disappointment at not seeing her immediately after getting the news then glances at the clock and realises that it's ten to three and he should really be getting a move on.

Grabbing a box of biscuits that feel half-full when he rattles them in his hand, Harry stuffs Ginny’s note into his pocket and makes it out of the door in three steps, turning on the spot as the door clicks closed.

  


.

  


Ginny's waiting for him outside when he gets to The Burrow. He can see her grin from here, the way she almost seems to be vibrating on the spot, full to the brim with pride. "I’ve forgotten all your bad changing room habits,” is the first thing she says.

“You live with me,” Harry points out. “You get to experience them all the time.”

Ginny throws her arms around him, laughing in his ear when he picks her up and spins them around the garden, the biscuits spilling on the ground. “We did it, Potter. The fucking  _World Cup_.”

“Think we’ll win?”

“Please. One glance at the list tells me this is the strongest team we’ve had in years, and you know how I feel about Stucker from the Apples so I’m not being biased.”

Harry kisses her and feels like he’s somewhere on top of the world.

Lately, that’s not been such a rare feeling.

They sway in the garden, the sun hot on the back of their necks, and think of the weeks of training in front of them. Harry remembers Gryffindor practices with Ginny keeping him going the few times he was beginning to give up hope on winning the Cup as Captain, how this sport was what had pulled them together the rest of the way, really, after everything else. A counter for possession and nightmares and scars that won’t heal; this is their thing, both together and apart.

  


.

  


“Oi. What are you two so happy about?”

Harry and Ginny turn to Ron standing at the front door.

“Wait till you hear what your baby sister has achieved now,” Ginny grins, dragging Harry inside by the hand.

  
  



End file.
